Pleasures
by terrified
Summary: A (very random) one-shot. Mycroft Holmes does the unusual, taking a moment to rest, and to enjoy certain little pleasures.


_**A/N: **I had written a tumblr post a few days ago about this sudden mental takeover of a Mycroft x OC universe that occurred in my head. I rambled about its premise and was convinced I'd never do more than just daydream about it or rant occasionally when the feels got the better of me. However, I **did** end up writing the most currently replayed scene in my head. It probably occurs smack in the middle of things, where their private affections are finally revealed to us. So yeah, this is not Sherlolly I know but wow I just **had** to write this, you know? It would have eaten me inside out if I hadn't. For those who do read it, I hope you'll enjoy it. My love for Mycroft is growing infinitely stronger by the minute._

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**Pleasures**

He stood in the middle of his generous balcony which overlooked the impeccable green of his estate. It was dark, very dark, for it was past midnight, so the green was barely visible. The house was always large and empty. Foreboding, for some people, but it always symbolised peace for him. The world outside of it was noisy, disorderly and most of all _puerile_.

Mycroft rarely took pleasure in anything. Rarer still did he take any pleasure for himself. However, after what had been a long and busy day, he found himself at the balcony, listening to the silence of night and enjoying its cool air. He let out a small exhale which was for him, a physical signal to himself that another day had ended and that it was all right to rest.

There was such a serenity about him. The way his perfect posture never once buckled but remained ramrod straight. His eyes calmly sweeping across the space before him. Mycroft was ready to turn back into his room to prepare for bed when his serenity was interrupted, with a surprising wave of additional serenity he had not expected.

It was not that he had not expected it. Rather, he had not expected to enjoy it. He took pleasures so rarely he never remembered how they had felt. So when her slim arms snaked around him and he felt the gentle pressure of her cheekbone to his back, he was reminded that pleasures _did_ exist and in this case, they were very worth keeping.

Mycroft let himself smile for a moment, before placing his own cool hand on the wrapped ones around him. Carefully, he unravelled her arms that enveloped him and was quite amused at the instant disappointment he could feel in her. When he felt no resistance from her as he extricated himself from her hold, he smirked at how little she realised she meant to him.

With her arms quite ready to drop to her side and walk away in anger at not having moved her frustratingly beloved ice man, she was stunned to find that the same hand that removed her from him, now held her firmly by the wrist. From the way he was holding her, it seemed, he did not want her to walk away just yet.

She turned to face him, smiling at the pleasant surprise he had given her.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked quietly, her heart drumming from the fact that they were together again after so long.  
"I should be asking you that." he answered, his grip on her remaining firm.  
"Well, you've had a long day." she said, moving her fingers to hold his hand properly, "And so have I."  
"Indeed." he replied with a nod. "I don't suppose you want to discuss any updates on the case, do you?"

She laughed softly before looking up at him properly. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. Mycroft never laughed but she could always read it in his eyes.

"I'd rather not. But I will, if you must." she answered simply.

This was the most wonderful thing about her. She was free of folly, and could always focus on what really mattered. That was the very reason she had been called to join in on this case in the first place. Her cut-throat sensibilities appealed very much to him. However, that was not what mattered now. Mycroft had decided that it was time to rest. Yes, it was now all right to rest.

"I have no need for a discussion either." he said, releasing her hand and walking past her. Carefully, he unbuttoned his dinner jacket and folded it neatly over an armchair in his bedroom.  
"I was planning on retiring." he said, turning to her. "I've been standing for far too long today."

A small smile appeared on her face as she made her way back into his bedroom and shut the large doors that led to the balcony.

"I don't supposed you have any objection joining me?" he asked, eyeing her knowingly. "Unless you were planning to head out in that robe of yours."

He was always so proper. Yet, he always managed to tease her, amusing her in the most private of ways.

"I was already sleeping," she remarked, slipping back under his covers, "You woke me when you got back."  
"For that, I do apologise," he said, walking over to her side of the bed.

Mycroft studied her eyes that never left his face. The corners of her lips were lifted in a most delightful way. He _had_ missed this. Mycroft made a mental note not to be so averse to getting her to join forces on cases. She had proven to be a great asset and, contrary to everything he believed, was no distraction. Rather, she seemed to have sharpened the world around him, made his senses keener. Perhaps this was what people were implying when they referred to certain ones as _lights of their lives_.

She had lit his, and it was most definitely a pleasure.

**END**


End file.
